Waking Life
by Blackdeer7
Summary: A love story told through multiple POVs. Liara helps Shepard finally realize that she can share her burdens. Covers ME1 thru LotSB. FemShep/Liara
1. Dreaming

**Author's Notes:**

This is a standalone piece, but the chapters do have small references to various moments in ME1, ME2, and also my stories _Evolution of Command_, _The What If? _Scenario, Comments_ Along the Way_, and _Something Special_.

Also, this piece has not been beta'd, so I apologize for any grammatical errors (I am updating as I find them.)

For clarification purposes, the first chapter is based in a dream, and any bracketed words are Lakota's dream thoughts.

As always, thanks for reading and, for those who review, thank you for the feedback...it is greatly appreciated. Salut!

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**Chapter 1: Dreaming**

_[I was born to run.]_

Heat rose off the sandy terrain making Lakota feel as though she stepped into a batarian sauna. The midday sun blazed down upon her, and she could find no shady shelter in sight. Terracotta buildings were lined up in rows and segmented by busy, clutter filled streets: clutter of people, clutter of refuse, and clutter of childhood memories. Even the dry, dusty air felt suffocatingly cluttered with the stench of too many people packed into too small a space.

_**Mexico City, Earth**_

Lakota adeptly weaved her way through the poverty ridden crowd. She grew up in these slums and spent sixteen years fighting for each scrap of food, each shred of dignity and each notch of respect. At the age of six, already having a reputation as an accomplished pick-pocket and thief, she willingly joined the Tenth Street Reds. From that moment on, her path up the Red's ranks was fast. Deadly fast.

[_If you can't take care of yourself, you're dead or on the way to being dead_.]

She turned down an all too familiar alleyway, sizing up the street thugs as she went. No one would touch her. By the age of eight, she was lethal with the various knives and daggers that never left her side. At twelve, she had taken down two rival gang leaders in the same night; no one hearing a sound. At fifteen, she massacred the Tenth Street Reds' lieutenants for a personal betrayal, and at sixteen, she escaped to the Alliance military with a forged birth certificate. The Red Tiger always had a predatory edge, and only the suicidal were witless enough to get in her way.

Stopping in front of a red, metallic door, she discreetly surveyed her surroundings, and then entered the building. Silently, she made her way up the stairs leading to her loft, nicknamed _Azure_. It served as her personal living quarters and her crew's base of operations. As she neared the top, the rancorous odor of death was detected. Pulling her dagger, _Chaos_, from the sheath strapped to her left forearm, she slowly continued her deliberate, wary ascent. Each footfall echoed ominously through the stairwell below.

Reaching the loft entryway, Lakota noticed the front door was slightly ajar, as if baiting her to proceed. She hesitantly nudged the door open allowing for a full view of the eerily quiet loft. The atmosphere was lifeless. No voices. No music. No vids. The stench of death and decay drifted thickly in the stagnant, hot air. The hum of the ancient refrigerator acted a base line for the loft's tenebrous mood while dust particles reflecting off the bay window's sunbeam provided the only movement.

Lakota crossed quickly into the loft and started her apprehensive search. She glanced over the sparsely equipped kitchen, and then continued her advance through the dining room turned work space. Seeing nothing out of place, she moved to resume her hunt, but halted abruptly at the sight in the living room. Her young, loyal crew lay strewn around the area in misshapen, ragdoll forms. The room had been painted with rounds from a submachine gun, and the kids had been the nauseating canvas.

Lakota stood paralyzed in stunned, appalled silence. Fifteen years living in the slums and she had never seen such profane carnage. Her handpicked crew, kids ranging from seven to fourteen years of age, massacred at gunpoint: Erica, Jasper, Diego, Marina, Zoe, and Ramon. Her chest burned hotly as she desperately sought to breathe.

"Shepard."

Spinning wildly, brandishing her dagger, Lakota braced for an attack that never came. She recognized the beautiful, teenage girl, another Reds lieutenant, standing in front of her, and whispered, "Rosa?"

Rosalind was Lakota's only friend and confidant in Mexico City. She pulled Lakota from the brink of death when all others abandoned her. She willingly died, so Lakota could live.

Frantically looking around at the horror encompassing her, Lakota bitterly pleaded, "Why?"

The young, red-head walked slowly up to Lakota. She raised her right hand to softly caress Lakota's cheek and then smiled affectionately. "You're a hero. I've seen it. You'll save us all."

_[But I didn't.]_

Unable to hide her confusion, Lakota challenged, "I don't understand…"

Rosa turned her head sideways, then snapped sharply back around and screamed, "RUN!"

Too late, Lakota heard the ticking sound and launched into a sprint toward the kitchen. The explosion was followed by a searing pain that sliced across her face, and then carried her in to the warm embrace of blackness…

The blackness shifted into a smoky haze as Lakota walked through a thick grey fog rising from the ground. Chillness from the mist sank through her leather pants burrowing to her core, and she longingly wished for warmer clothes. She proceeded to make her cautious way through the desolate compound taking note of the abandoned, single story buildings surrounding her. Darkness continued to settle in around her, but fortunately, the light from ground fires reflected off the misty air offering enough illumination to see by.

Tension eerily crept up her spine, and her pace slowed as she strained to glimpse what might lie ahead in the smoky distance.

A man's screams jumped out from the darkness to the right. Another scream sliced through the haze from the left. Gunfire erupted and flashed in the dense fog emulating an orchestra death call.

_**Akuze**_

The bitter weight of knowledge fell heavily into Lakota. Now fully armored, her old trusty sniper rifle, _Styx_, in hand, she shrunk down into the shadows, and quietly made her way to the outskirts of the colony. Her platoon's screams disjointedly echoed throughout the dead settlement. The ground beneath her shook as a thresher maw broke through the surface, forty meters to her right, shrieking into the smoky, night sky. Lakota dropped behind a row of cargo crates, and hid from the beast's line of sight. Thresher maws could sense prey regardless of the environment they lurked. Lakota, frozen in place, assumed they had some type of sonar sense that allowed them to track prey and tunnel through the ground.

The pungency of charred flesh from thresher maw acid sifted thickly in the air. Moving methodically, Lakota stole some packing cloth from the cargo box, and wrapped it around her face to shield her nose, throat and lungs from the acidic, stingy atmosphere. Her watering eyes would have to take care of themselves. Field helmets had no visors; even so, visors would be useless in the dense, smoke-filled haze.

The sporadic screaming had turned into low moans littered throughout the area. Lakota chose the direction of the main community building; the best place to gather and fortify defenses, and lithely, silently headed off. Her skills at infiltration were unsurpassed, and she made use of every trick to keep her pace quick, quiet and unseen.

As expected, she came across them: her platoon. They were strewn about like garbage over the center commons ground. Massacred. Bodies broken by thresher tentacles. Flesh and bone eaten away by acid. They surrounded her in their open-air, unmarked graves. All of them- eleven men and women- bodies unmoving, smoke rising from their forms, disintegrating before her eyes. Death hung flatly in the air.

Acid stung her eyes as she knelt down in front of her old friend, Tug, the one who gave her a call name. She had only been part of the crew for a week, but long enough to know the XO did not appreciate women in his unit. He rode her hard taking every opportunity to verbal beat her down, "You aren't a soldier! You aren't even human! You are a maggot wasting space. A vorcha could infiltrate a whore house and walk out cleaner than you!" The next time they were on leave, she stole into the whore house he frequented, and stuck an insta-tat on his bare ass while he slept. He left ass cheek said "Boo" thereafter. Nobody could prove she did it, but the XO kept his distance from that point on.

Tug knew though. At six foot, eight inches tall, built like an ebony steel beam, he was intuitive, mouthy and nobody gave him flack. He christened her "Boo" after he heard about the insta-tat incident. They were close, had shared a bed a few times, but it was momentary companionship for both and nothing more.

_[It was my fault.]_

Grief-stricken tears, born from adversity and spurred on by disaster, silently slid down her face. Seeing him lying on the ground, body battered and broken, flesh burned and bone eroded, reopened old wounds of her own. If the XO had listened to her, if she had been more tenacious in her demands to be heard, maybe Tug would be alive. Maybe they all would be alive. She had figured out a strategy against the maws, she survived. She should have fought harder to be heard.

"Boo." Tug's dead, empty eyes opened wide and looked at her. "RUN!"

The thresher maw erupted from the ground behind her and Lakota was thrown sideways down a hill. Tumbling, rolling and tumbling her further into a black abyss…

She rose in a lush, tropical paradise. The noon sun scorched from above while a complementary, cooling breeze carried with it the fresh, salty air. Lakota removed the cloth covering her face, took off her armor, left _Styx_ in the discard pile, and walked along the sandy beach to the ocean's edge. Two defense towers jutted up in the skyline.

_**Virmire**_

Dismayed, Lakota's chin sunk grimly to her chest, and then felt a hand perch lightly upon her shoulder.

"Commander?"

She recognized the voice, and desperately fought the urge to turn around. The quiet, but insistent hand did not leave her shoulder. Lakota squeezed her eyes tightly, took a deep breath and quickly swung around. Opening her eyes, she was startled by the sight and stumbled backward a step.

In front of her stood gunnery chief Ashley Williams or what was left of her after a nuclear device had been detonated, killing her and an army of cloned krogan. The dead woman's flesh hung loosely from burned and blackened bones that were revealed through the holes in her armor. The complete left side of her face was peeled away, so only skeletal frame showed while patches of skin and hair clung frightfully to her scalp. The only intact features were her luminous eyes. They were Ashley's eyes.

"Ash…"

"Save it, Skipper. You left me here to rot."

"If there had been another way…"

"There is always another way. And if you had taken it, a lot more people would have died, including LT."

_[I failed you.]_

"I…" Unsure of what to say, Lakota remained silent. She felt she made the right choice in an impossible situation, but was still haunted by the outcome. If she had been quicker infiltrating Saren's lab… If she had been faster getting to the salarians and Kaidan… If she stayed and detonated the nuke herself…

"Commander!" Breaking Lakota's mental monologue, the ghoulish visage of Ashley screamed, "RUN!"

The mushroom cloud behind Ashley ignited the sky, and Lakota ran. Ran hard, ran fast. She ran past the beach, through the trees and into the forest where the heat and darkness engulfed her. Her foot caught on a root outcropping and she landed roughly in a thick bed of tall grass…

Lakota lifted her head looking around at the misshapen, alien forms of bulkheads and space ship structure. The floor and walls were covered in a flesh-like film producing both heat and a nauseating, rotting smell.

_**The collector ship**_

She lifted herself off the alien floor and rapidly assessed the surrounding, hostile environment. Garbed in her crimson, kestrel armor and her trusty sniper rifle, _Hela_, in hand, she took immediate cover behind a low barricade.

_[I've got to make it to the Normandy shuttle.]_

Activating her nano-electrical cloak, she hurdled over the barricade quickly making her way down the narrow, lowly illuminated corridor. Leaping by terminals that controlled hatches within the thermal tunnels, Lakota noticed they were all activated. Tali travelled through those tunnels, bypassing the defenses and doors, in order to open the central gates. The hatches had needed to be opened, so Tali would not burn from the thermal buildup.

_[Tali is safe.]_

Turning back down the passageway, she navigated over more barricades and furthered her way through the ship's compound. She stopped just before the entrance to a main chamber at the end of the corridor. Cautiously, she settled into a low crouch and peered into the room. She identified multiple open containment chambers that once held members of her crew. The space was empty.

_[My crew is safe.]_

She rose up, diving headlong through the room, and then down a passageway leading to a secondary chamber. Lakota made her way through the ship, continuing to negotiate her way over barricades and down corridors, until she entered upon a large open area. She stayed low, under cover, looking for signs of movement.

_[No seeker swarms; my team is safe.]_

The collector ship rumbled and swayed. The sounds of tearing metal pierced the air as chunks of the ship showered down all around Lakota. She took off running up the ramp in the direction where she knew her shuttle would be waiting. Sprinting up the incline, the alien ship continued to fall apart around her. The hair on Lakota's neck rose as she sensed the presence of a collector nearby. Looking ahead she saw the _Normandy's_ shuttle come into view thirty yards down the platform. Dodging the falling debris, Lakota rolled to her left and started up the tottering ramp.

"Shepard!" A shocking scream pierced the air from behind.

In one smooth movement, Lakota stopped sharply, spun around and poised _Hela_ for a dead shot. Fear could not be hidden from her voiced astonishment. "Liara?"

Liara T'Soni, asari scientist and Lakota's lover, was held down by the collector general, Harbinger.

"Let her go!" Lakota snarled menacingly.

"Nothing stands against us," Harbinger stated apathetically. "You cannot resist."

"The hell I can't."

Bringing Harbinger into the crosshairs of _Hela's_ scope, Lakota took a deep breath, exhaled slowly and squeezed the trigger. Perfect headshot. Harbinger's borrowed form fell listlessly to the ground along with Liara.

Dropping _Hela_ to her side, Lakota raced towards the asari. She was able to maintain her balance as the platform pitched to the right and the ship's debris continued to rain down around her. She reached out her hand to grab Liara, but before contact could be made a metal fragment slammed solidly into Lakota's chest, pitching her over the edge of the unstable platform and into the empty space.

Unable to breathe, lungs fiercely burning, Lakota free fell into the abysmal darkness below…


	2. Waking

**Chapter 2: Waking**

The collector debris thunder punched Lakota's chest stealing her ability to breathe. Twisting sharply, she grunted and forcefully shoved away, ultimately falling awkwardly onto a cold, hard surface. Instinctively, she rolled into a defensive crouch, left arm protectively in front, biotic energy coursing over her right, ready to be released. Lungs on fire, struggling for air, Lakota attempted to gain a bearing on her surroundings. Familiar darkness engulfed her as she made out a biotically highlighted shape in the foreground.

Disoriented and uncertain, Lakota whispered cautiously, "Liara?"

"I am here, Shepard," a gentle voice intoned. Liara was frozen in place on the bed; her own biotics forming a shield between them.

Energy dissipated from Lakota's right arm as she lowered her defenses, and fell heavily to her knees. Artificial light from the aquarium illuminated the myriad of emotions shifting across her face: dizzy confusion, bleak dread, and eventually, heavy-hearted discernment.

_[It was The Dream.]_

Panicked, Lakota hastily asked, "Are you okay?"

"I am unharmed, Commander." Liara's eyes never strayed from her lover's form as she lowered her own energetic field.

Tension instantly drained from Lakota's body, but was just as quickly replaced by another anxiety. "I didn't hurt…"

Interrupting, Liara tenderly reassured, "No, Shepard, I am fine."

Still tormented by the dismal visions, Lakota's dream-fabricated apprehension collided toxically with her immediate concern for Liara's safety. Those baneful, twisting thoughts paralyzed Lakota in an unforgiving, "what if" reality. Momentarily tied to that chilling, alternate existence, she softly begged pardon. "I am sorry."

Before hearing any response, a wave of nausea viciously assaulted Lakota. She sprang up and sprinted through her quarters toward the bathroom, going as fast as her wobbly legs would carry.

Collapsing at the toilet, Lakota proceeded to throw up the dinner she had consumed a few hours earlier. A cold sweat shivered across her naked form sharpening the discomfort emanating from the muscles in her legs, arms and back. As she cradled the stainless steel basin for support, waves of nausea persisted in their topsy-turvy barrage until dry heaves were all that was left.

Remnants of the nightmare continued to stoically invade her senses and flood her mind with disparaging, sinister images. Hugging the sides of the icy basin was the only way Lakota was able to keep her weakened, trembling body upright.

_[Mexico City- death.]_

_[Akuze- death.]_

_[Virmire- death.]_

_[Collector Ship- dying]_

Lakota vaguely registered movement around her. The bathroom door opening, a silk robe being dropped next to her, water from the sink being run; all of these occurred on the periphery of her reality-based awareness. The rest of her awareness had been swallowed whole by her malefic dreamweave, and she was fighting tenaciously to stay afloat.

With steadfast determination, Lakota turned her focus to the steel bowl in front of her kneeling form. She used physical distress like a grounding rod in a desperate attempt to maintain her fragile hold in the waking world. Icy shards from the bathroom floor penetrated her knees, seeped up her thighs, and caused sharp, uncomfortable muscle spasms through her legs. A cold sweat covered her bare frame, intensifying the wretched, uncontrollable shivering that overwhelmed her body. She inhaled the moment around her with deliberate attention to detail, and then, as though sprouting roots, sought to mindfully exhale her physical and mental suffering into the sterile floor below.

She did not acknowledge the asari's entry into the room for fear of losing herself again to the black nausea of _The Dream_. While in a frozen, statuesque form, Lakota kept her eyes closed tight, wrapped her arms firmly around the bowl, and struggled vigorously to maintain distance from the nightmare. She felt a cool cloth being placed on her neck, and the lingering caress of her lover's hand on her cheek. Slowly, the dark, surreal images started to dissipate.

Before Liara's hand could be removed, Lakota caught it lightly, and pressed it further into its consoling placement. Without opening her eyes, she whispered another, anguished apology. "I'm sorry."

Shaking her head slightly, Liara soothed, "There is nothing to be sorry about."

Lakota squeezed her eyes tight as stinging tears fell silently down her wearied face. She forced the burgeoning emotion in her chest to recede, and then dismissively stated, "I'll be out in a moment."

Sounding harsher than intended, Lakota gently kissed her lover's hand, and turned her head slightly, halfway meeting Liara's compassionate expression. Failing miserably at her endeavor to smile; Lakota's words reflected the volumes emanated in her gaze. "Thank you."

Her brow furrowing in concerned speculation, Liara reluctantly agreed. A hint of a placated smile touched her lips when she responded, "I will wait for you in the cabin."

Nodding, Lakota released the asari's hand, and returned her full attention to the basin in front of her. She heard Liara leave, but stayed firmly embedded to her spot. The vile nausea had passed, but its wake left Lakota feeling shaken and weak.

She noticed the robe Liara left on the floor: real, earth-born, black silk. On the back, a Bengal tiger, detailed in earth-asian, stylistic design, was woven into the soft, smooth threads. It was a recent, extravagant gift from Liara, and Lakota adored it. She put on the thin garment which offered surprising warmth for such light-weight textile. Its low conductivity level kept warm air closer to the skin, therefore, kept her warmer in cold environments. At this moment, she was exceedingly grateful for those unique properties.

Bracing her hands on the outer edge of the stainless bowl, Lakota, with calculated precision, rose slowly. When confident in her equilibrium, she stepped lightly over to the sink. She removed the towel that was on her neck, discarding it carelessly on the floor, and then turned on the faucet. Cupping the lukewarm water in both hands, she inhaled deeply, and then splashed her face and rinsed her mouth.

_[I am alive.]_

She splashed the warm liquid her face again, and casually slapped her cheeks for good measure.

_[I am awake.]_

After bathing her face a third time, she looked into the mirror that hung above the sink, water still dripping from her chin. The haunted image returning her stare was unfamiliar, but she took note of the vulnerable, sage green eyes peering back at her. They were luminescent when contrasted against her honey-tanned skin. Unblemished skin. Touching her right eyebrow, Lakota traced a diagonal line over her nose across her left cheek and ended at her jaw bone. Her trademark, seven inch scar had vanished, and in its place was perfect, beautifully smooth, skin.

_[A piece of me…gone. The history, emotion and experience tied to that scar are now over-shadowed by Cerberus' paw print. Their handiwork removed the old friend who reminded me of my beginnings and galvanized me in my actions. The living memory of why I got up each day and trudged ahead trying to make things better. And now, the face staring back at me is a foreign entity. A Cerberus constructed infidel.]_

_[Who are you?]_

Letting the robe drop from her left shoulder, Lakota twisted, so she could see her back in the mirror. The ten inch tattoo of a medicine wheel was no longer there.

_[Another piece of me…missing. The marker representing a pivotal time in my life. The symbol reflecting the connectedness to all living things. It's been erased. Removed. Wiped away. And there is no getting it back, because my new and improved skin won't support a tat. Even if I could, though, it wouldn't be the same.]_

_[My history has been removed. What fills the gaping hole? What stands in its place?]_

Preceded by a weighty, thoughtful sigh, Lakota turned around and faced her wayward reflection squarely.

_[What are you?]_

_[Organic? Synthetic? Cybernetic? …Mostly human. Female. But am I a Reds lieutenant, an Alliance soldier, a Council Spectre, or a Cerberus patsy? Am I all of the above? I came back from the dead, so does that make me a miracle or an abomination? Am I a soldier raised from the grave or a demon waiting to take others to the grave?]_

As if to clear the disconsolate thoughts, she shook her head, and then returned her gaze to those moody, pale green eyes.

_[Think harsh thoughts. Focus. Like how you want to hunt down the batarian terrorist, Balak, and give him his due. Or what you would do, if anyone harmed one of your crew. Or how you would kill anyone who harmed Liara. There…there it is…the red, cybernetic glow behind the eyes. Chakwas said negative thoughts trigger it; she was right. If that's what my enemies see when I'm coming for them…well…honestly, that makes me smile, a little. It's definitely unsettling.]_

_[But it's just another reminder of how much I've changed. I was a normal human when I died, and then woke up with a biotic signature and a cybernetic, synthetic infused body. How much left of me is human? How much like Saren have I become? That question scares me the most.] _

_[And the biotics... I'm not use to them...and mine is a disturbing ability to have. To drain life-force from an organic, or energy from a synthetic, and have it replenish my health is a bit macabre. Vampiric really. I'm a trained soldier, and accustomed to death, but that…that is parasitic at best.]_

_[What have I become?]_

_[What am I?]_

_[Am I still the same person I was before I died? I use to sleep peacefully. But now, nightmares plague me more than I care to admit. And they are vivid. Raw. I can feel the sordid heat of Mexico City. I can taste the acidic, smoky air of Akuze on my tongue. I can smell the burned, rotting flesh on Ashley. I can even sense the alien energy from the collector ship. It still crawls over my skin like a thousand, intruding centipedes.]_

_[Who am I?]_

The subtleties of Lakota's hellish visions had a stranglehold on her thoughts, and threaten to drag her toward their aphotic, menacing depths. She ambled to the shower with her head bowed low, and allowed the prismatic robe to slip gently to the floor. The tumultuous emotions being gated in her chest fought to break free of their weakened barrier. She turned on the faucet, stepped in and let the scalding water wash over her. The water acted as a potent salve rinsing away her tension and doubt. And with that cleansing came the shedding of long-buried tears. Tears of suppressed sorrow and grief. Sorrow for those friends she lost through various hardships. Grief for what she lost of herself during those hardships.

_[Each unique moment of my life has been spun together, woven into a one-of-a-kind history, an exclusive foundation, from which I evolve. My experiences cannot be copied. My reactions cannot be redone. My existence cannot be duplicated. I am no doppelganger.] _

_[I __**am**__ Lakota Shepard.]_

She felt the hot water cascade over her skin bringing with it a sense of soothing tranquility. She wiggled her toes as if seeking to burrow them into the solid, shower floor. The hard, smooth surface comforted her senses and offered a stable, safe foundation for her exhausted body. She flexed her right hand, marveling in its strength and litheness, and then furthered the motion by stretching her arm in a semi-circle around her form. The physical movement acted as a reminder, keeping Lakota bound in present-day reality.

_[I am awake.]_

Her right hand came to rest on her chest, feeling the hypnotic rise and fall of her breathing.

_[I am alive.]_

She shifted the hand to her neck, felt the steady, cathartic drumbeat of lifeblood coursing through her veins, and then she breathed a sigh of relief.

_[I am alive.]_


	3. Reflecting On What Once Was

**Author's Note:**

This chapter is told from Liara's point of view. She has a lot to relate, so Chapter 4 will be told from her point of view, as well.

I hope you are enjoying the story!

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**Chapter 3: Reflecting On What Once Was**

"_I've got information on the location of the Shadow Broker Base… Interested?"_

You always knew how to get my attention. Of course, I was interested.

And that was how our second chance started.

That wasn't the first time I'd seen you though. A few months prior, you'd strode nonchalantly into my Illium office in the same easy manner as when you use to visit me in the med lab on the _Normandy SR-1_. The only difference being, we knew who we were to each other back then.

After your two year absence from my life, the first words you heard out of my mouth were a mirror image of my mother's threat to you, "…flay you alive with my mind." I'd been using that as an effective leveraging measure for over a year, and I can thank you for an added intimidation factor. Apparently, those who traveled with you during the hunt for Saren gained a bit of your ruthless reputation. It must have been your hands on approach to people skills.

I wasn't surprised by your first visit to Illium. I'd gathered intel on your recent emergence at Omega, but I didn't know if the rumors were accurate. Throughout the last two years, there had been other "resurrections of Shepard", but they were all false prophets trying to cash in on your reputation. I, of course, knew that Cerberus would be tied to any valid lead involving you, so when I saw the video of Miranda Lawson walking through Omega with two other individuals, I took pause.

One of her companions was a human male attired in a Cerberus uniform, and the other was a non-descript humanoid. In all the vids, the face was never captured, as though they knew they were being watched and avoided direct line of sight to any cameras. You always had a sixth sense about those things. This individual wore crimson, kestrel armor. You loved your maroon, Mercenary X armor. They carried a sniper rifle as a preferred weapon. You felt naked without your sniper rifle, _Styx_. They had coal-black hair. You had coal-black hair. They left Omega in chaos. That was something you definitely would have done.

All the signs, outwardly open and intimately small, pointed to the fact that it was really you, but it was still too much for me to hope for. I kept tabs on the movements of this rogue entity and, after the events on Horizon, I knew, without a doubt, it was you. Or some doppelganger of you.

Then you were in my office. My astonishment was enough to override my brain and allow my heart complete control. Without thought, I kissed you and you responded. The bittersweet moment lasted a split-second and a lifetime, but my brain regained control and I removed myself from your intoxicating presence. Yes, it was you. Not a copy or shade of you. Cerberus couldn't fabricate your dynamic essence.

You wanted answers, but I needed help and needed someone I could trust, so I took advantage of you. With your aid, Nyxeris, my assistant, was ferreted out as a spy who I then dispatched. I wasn't proud of how I used you and you voiced your unhappiness with me, but you wanted more from me than I could give, and you pushed the conversation to my breaking point. In the end, I confessed how Cerberus got your body- I'd given it to them. I knew they would employ you for their own purpose, but I handed you over to them anyway. I wasn't ready to let you go. You forgave me, saying your mission against the collectors was important, but I still had a long way to go before I could forgive myself.

When you walked out of my office door, you hesitated in the archway, as if debating with yourself, and then you motioned Miranda and Garrus to go. Once they left, you turned and marched back in. I've seen the steel glint of your eyes; heard the cold, imposing inflection of your voice; but until that day, it had never been focused in my direction. I knew my actions hurt you, knew they seem like a dismissal of you, and in fact, they were. I needed to stay focused on my retribution, and you were a distraction, but before you moved on, you laid down the boundary line.

"_Next time, show me some respect. No more games, no manipulations. If you can't do that, then don't bother contacting me." _

You left abruptly, and I didn't know if I would ever see you again.

I continued my hobby of gathering information on your exploits. The trail of chaos left in your wake was easy to follow, but when the information dried up and deftly silent updates filled the network, I became concerned. I second guessed my actions regarding you, but as you use to say, I made my bed and now I had to lie in it. During this time of radio silence, you acquired the Reaper IFF, the collectors hijacked the crew and you plunged headlong into the Omega 4 Relay to rescue them.

Yes, I am still a little bitter about being left in the dark on the details of that undertaking.

Once again, though, you miraculously returned from the brink of the void and then showed up on my doorstep with an offer to help me finish my quest. You brought valuable information on the Shadow Broker and something else I didn't expect: hope. Feron was still alive and you were willing to lend your support. I was extraordinarily grateful. For the first time in many, many months, I didn't feel alone.

To add to the plot, the Spectre, Vasir, attempted to kill me, but ended up dead by our hands. I heard her last words to you, condemning you for your Cerberus affiliation and their involvement with Akuze. I saw the pain burn across your eyes at the compromise you'd given for the greater good. I empathized. We both paid a high price for the choices we'd made on our individual crusades.

Before boarding the Normandy shuttle, you cornered me on the Illium rooftop. You questioned my callous words and remorseless actions while chasing Vasir, and then you wanted to talk about us. I was overwhelmed, overloaded. I couldn't get the image of our first meeting on Therum out my head. You rescued me from the geth and a krogan battlemaster and now you were coming to my rescue once again. In the moments I needed you the most, you were always there- except during those two years in which you abandoned me.

For two years, you were absent from my life. For two years, I mourned you. I had to learn to fend for myself and then, without warning, you showed up and expected me to lean on you again. It was too much to think about. Too much to process. I told you I couldn't get into it and we needed to focus on the mission.

The shuttle ride to the _Normandy_ was uncomfortably quiet.

I opted to stay in the hanger bay during the passage to the Broker base. The new _Normandy_ had no place for me and honestly, I had no room for it. My quest for revenge had unexpectedly turned into a rescue operation, and I could not afford any distractions. I owed Feron that much.

As is the way of the universe though, others didn't share my sentiments. Tali and Garrus checked on me first. It was another bittersweet reunion. The changes between us hung in the air like a dense fog, but as old companions do, we remembered our bonds of friendship and enjoyed each other's presence. One thing was made very clear to me while talking with them- their loyalty and devotion to you were uncompromised and resolute. As much as I tried to fight it, eventually I could not stop myself from asking about you.

"_How has she been?"_

Tali and Garrus exchanged a look between them, and I felt more isolated than before, which is odd, since I've worked alone most of my life. As a matriarch's daughter, I studied alone. As I scientist investigating Protheans, I researched alone. To be an information broker is to be alone. It wasn't until you recruited me into your squad, during the days of hunting Saren, that I became a part of something- yet another thing I blamed you for. Prior to you, I was perfectly content being on my own.

Tali was the first to try to explain.

"_She's...she's 'Shepard.' She doesn't complain unless it's about the Council or the Illusive Man. Did you know she stood up to the Admiralty board? She defended me without implicating…without asking for anything in return. Just like she's doing now."_

I wondered if she was aware of her attraction to you. It was obvious to me, especially after my extended absence from the engineer. I was able to read between her words, hear through the timber of her voice and sift through the volumes left unsaid. She loved you, but it was unrequited, tucked neatly under the surface of all that was expressed.

Garrus took a different approach.

"_She told me what you did. How you recovered her body, gave her to Cerberus."_

If I hadn't squeezed my hands tightly, digging my nails into the palms of my hands, I think I would have cried.

"_I don't know how you did it, but…thanks. Without Shepard, I would…none of us would be here. And the collectors would still be on the loose. So…thanks."_

Garrus' admiration of you was difficult to behold. In his shadow, I felt unworthy of your attention. I had faith in your abilities, in your perseverance to accomplish the impossible, but I was far from ready to believe you were doing this unconditionally. My time as an information broker taught me that people invariably had an agenda, but you always liked to prove me wrong.

To be honest, I'd forgotten how it felt to fight by your side. To be a part of something greater than myself. My personal hunt for the Shadow Broker wholly consumed two years of my life, and then within hours of your participation, it was about to come to an end. Hours. That's the impact you had on people. You rushed in like wildfire, burned through the twisted underbrush, and depending on one's point of view, left things better or worse. I wondered how you were going to leave me.

Before departing to resume his duties, Garrus turned to me and shared a secret.

"_She doesn't talk about it."_

"_Talk about what?"_

"_She doesn't talk about dying. Doesn't talk about what it was like to wake up in a Cerberus hole. Alone. I've asked, but she circumvents."_

More guilt added to the heaping pile.

"_If you ask me, I think she was waiting."_

"_Waiting for what?"_

"_You."_

At that very moment, the perfect Ms. Lawson showed up and interrupted the conversation. Garrus and Tali made a quick exit, leaving me to the attentions of the former Cerberus officer. Your charisma and ability to convert followers had to be rated up there with the most iconic individuals because, next to Garrus and Tali, she was your most staunch advocate.

"_Hello, Liara." _

"_Miranda."_

"_It seems as though we've come full circle."_

"_Yes, it does. But it ends here."_

"_You're right to put your faith in Shepard. She's pulled off some amazing feats."_

"_I was there for a few of them."_

"_Yes, of course, you were. She's impressive." _

I heard the adoration in her voice. I saw the allegiance and protectiveness in her eyes. I admit, I was jealous of her time spent with you, and since I had nothing polite to say, I kept quiet. Miranda didn't share the same inclination.

"_She doesn't deserve your apathy."_

"_What do you know of it?"_

"_I know a lot more than you think! I've been with her the last few months! Where the bloody hell have you been?"_

She was right and in that moment, I decided to apologize to you. I wanted to clear the air between us before we went up against the Shadow Broker. Miranda told me you'd just passed her in the corridor, so I headed your way.

I was only a few minutes behind you, but apparently, it was long enough to stumble upon an intimate moment between you and the drell, Thane. I should have known you would be drawn to the soulful, repentant assassin. I'm not sure what was said, but from my vantage point down the corridor I witnessed the anguished look on your downcast face and his hand caressing your cheek. You lifted your eyes to meet his, spoke a few words, and he stepped closer wrapping you in a one-armed embrace.

I couldn't bear to watch anymore, so I returned to the shuttle bay as quickly as I could. At first I was hurt, but that promptly turned to a rising anger. An hour earlier you were cornering me about our relationship, and then you were in the arms of another. My thoughts spun in a furious rampage and I needed an outlet. That's when the amiable Ms. Chambers arrived.

I am positive she felt my infuriated disposition.

"_Dr. T'Soni. Hello, I'm Commander Shepard's Yeoman, Kelly Chambers. She asked me to check on you and find out if you needed anything."_

"_Yes, I do. I need to see her."_

"_Yes…well…she's preparing…"_

"_NOW!" _

"_Um…yes, of course. Follow me, please."_

Somehow you had been told to expect my arrival, because you were waiting for us when the elevator door opened to your cabin. You had removed your kestrel armor and had changed into more casual attire; a sage green tank top, brown leather pants, and a matching vest. You were stunning, but I banished those appraising thoughts for ones brewing in outrage.

Even in the short exchange you had while dismissing Yeoman Chambers, I saw her painfully obvious interest in you. That knowledge only fed my fury, and once she left, I unleashed it on you.

_"Do you think I am a fool, Commander?"_

"_Liara, what's wrong?"_

"_Wrong? Wrong? What game are you playing at?" _

"_Wait. What are you talking about?"_

"_You're unbelievable! You want to talk about us, but you are clearly carrying on with the assassin!"_

"_Thane? What? There's nothing going on between Thane and me! Who told you that?" _

You were never one to lie and from the look on your face I knew you were telling the truth before you finished your sentence. Like a deflated balloon, my unfounded anger immediately disappeared leaving an empty, exhausted husk. Embarrassed, I couldn't look you, so my eyes darted around your cabin and locked on the digital photo sitting on your desk- an image of me. I didn't think it possible, but my heart sank even further. I was too emotionally debilitated to protest as you guided me over to the couch. The strain of being near you, but at the same time being so far away, was taking its toll.

"_Liara? Are you okay?"_

I couldn't find the energy to speak, so I nodded.

You knelt in front of me and in that moment, I was really able to look at you. I'd forgotten the bewitching nature of your pale green eyes.

"_Listen…I 'm sorry. Back on Illium, I shouldn't have pushed the conversation." _

Mesmerized by your haunting eyes, I was only half-listening to your words, but then, as though you suited up in your armor, your physical demeanor shifted, and the soft undertone of your voice laced with a resolute determination.

"_I get it. It's been two years for you. You moved on. In my head, I get it. But it's only been a few months for me, so…it's going to take longer for me to process in here." _

You pointed to your chest and flashed me the lopsided, goofy grin that melted hearts and quietly won arguments, but it was tempered by an immeasurable sadness in your eyes. At least one thing hadn't changed- you were still a terrible liar.

Then the compassionate, self-sacrificing Lakota rose to the surface. The one who placed other's needs before her own.

"_But your presence in my life is too important_ _to throw away. So…I'll adjust. I'll get there. Just give me some time."_

My heart broke anew when you uttered the words: "Just give me some time." It wasn't the first occasion you'd spoken them to me. The first time I heard them, you asked me to give you time to adjust to our new relationship; now you were asking me to give you time to adjust to the end of our relationship. The irony didn't escape me. My rueful laugh came out as a weary sob and you, being you, moved to the couch and wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

I've always been amazed by your ability to compartmentalize. Whatever personal hell you were going through, you shelved it and offered your friendship and understanding in my direction. I'd forgotten what it was like to have a friend.

"_Hey, you look exhausted. When was the last time you slept?"_

"Two years ago" was the answer that flashed through my mind, but instead of voicing that bit of trivia, I stayed silent and shrugged my shoulders.

"_We've got a few hours, why don't you try to get some rest. It'll do you good."_

I nodded in agreement, but didn't move from my spot. After two years, I was finally sitting next to you and I couldn't move. I didn't want to move. I was drawn to your strength, your empathy, your unconditional support. I wanted to be stronger, but in that moment, I needed you and you knew it. Somehow you read me, my needs, and moved into action.

You grabbed a pillow and blanket from your bed, came back to the couch and knelt in front of me. One by one, you removed my boots, and then helped me remove my jacket. Nothing felt awkward between us, even as you gently guided me to stretch out on the couch. You placed the blanket over me and stepped back as if to move away, but I grabbed your hand and gently tugged. You didn't resist. Instead, you sat on the floor near the pillow, leaned your back on the couch and turned your sincere, tender gaze upon me.

You have a genuine gift with words, and in that moment, you said exactly what I needed to hear.

"_I'll stay right here and watch over you. You can sleep now. You're safe."_


	4. Reflecting On What Is Now

**********Author's Note:**

****This is a continuation of Liara's thoughts…

* * *

**Chapter 4: Reflecting On What Is Now**

I hadn't experienced a peaceful slumber since the destruction of the _Normandy SR-1, _not until that night on the new _Normandy SR-2_, when I slept on your couch with you watching over me.

For the longest time my dreams were haunted by your determined, unwavering voice ordering me to help crew members to the escape pods. I argued, but we both had known it was a futile discourse. I read the situation and understood what needed to be done, but a gripping tension riddled my body. Something awful was about to happen, yet I forced myself to leave you, to assist those under your command.

Then you died.

I remember looking through the escape pod's sight glass, watching the _Normandy SR-1_ being torn asunder by the collector ship. The frigate's incredible mass splintered apart amidst celestial bodies of the Terminus system. Painted on the obsidian backdrop of starry space, the site was perversely beautiful. I heard Joker's screams over the interlinked comms and against all logic I strained to catch a glimpse of you floating in the black abyss. An abyss that mimicked the gaping void in my chest.

I felt impotent. All I wanted was to halt time, return to you and save you, but I was powerless, unable to do anything except be a reluctant witness to your death. As silly as it may seem, I watched because I didn't want you to die alone.

My whole being felt like a hallowed chasm that swallowed all of the deaf cries echoing from my anguished heart. No matter how much my heart and mind screamed in protest, no one heard the dreadful song that hopelessness and horror invoked upon my soul. Even the silent tears that glistened on my face could not emulate my leaden despair. We both were aware that the possibility of one of us dying existed, but knowing it and experiencing it were two vastly different realities. Our time together had been prematurely severed, and in the ruin of such trauma spread a jagged, festering wound oozing with guilt, remorse and longing.

Afterward, because I didn't know how to let you go, my chess match with the Shadow Broker began. Weaving between Cerberus, the collectors and broker agents, I was finally able to acquire the prize- your broken, battered and shredded body. The cost of that retrieval was high. Extraordinarily high. Not only did I lose Feron to the Shadow Broker, but I had to give your body to Cerberus. Nothing about that exchange felt right, but I did it anyway because the elusive hope that I could one day see you again was easier to bear than the desolate knowledge of you being gone forever.

So two years after your death, I woke on the couch in your quarters with my arm lazily draped on your shoulder and my hand on your chest. You were still sitting on the floor, back pressed against the couch, but you too had dozed off. I lightly pressed my hand on your chest, felt the rhythmic pulse of your heart beat, and smiled a goofy smile of someone who had just found the end of the rainbow. You were really alive. You were also a light sleeper and woke a moment later.

"_Good morning, Doctor."_

"_I believe it is mid-day, Commander."_

"_Yeah…well…I think you snored."_

"_And what does that have to do with the time of day?"_

"_Absolutely nothing, but you're cute when you're indignant."_

I realized immediately something shifted between us during our slumber. An ease had secretly settled over us and happily carried into our waking world. Gone was the tension born from unresolved feelings and unanswered questions and in its place sat a silent agreement to focus on the now. It was as if we had both known the past wasn't going anywhere and could be addressed at a later time. Saving Feron took precedent.

When we reached Sowilo, Garrus, you and I surged on the Shadow Broker Base. Garrus' sniper talents and my biotics were quantifiable abilities in my book. From past experiences, I had known what to expect of the former C-sec officer, and I thought I had known what to expect from you, but I was wrong. Your fighting style had changed. I hadn't noticed on Illium, because I was too focused on acquiring the data from Vasir. You were still impressive, but you had become more of a risk taker. Instead of neutralizing a target with your sniper rifle from a distance, you cloaked, snuck up behind the enemy, and then used a pistol at point blank range. If there was more than one target, you took out all you could, found cover, recharged your cloak, and then repeated your pistol shot maneuver. It seemed belligerently reckless to me.

The most unsettling display wasn't something that had changed though, it was something brand new. In the middle of a firefight with broker agents, you had exhausted your supply of sniper rifle thermal clips, but instead of cloaking and using your pistol, you used biotics on a mech. It appeared that the mech lost all power, and then exploded. It took me a moment to recover from my shock and I scolded myself for not noticing this new cache to your arsenal beforehand. This was a wildly unusual ability for you to have. After all, you weren't a biotic prior to Cerberus's hands touching you.

What had they done to you? What had you undergone? What fate had I regaled you to? I shelved my questions for a later time which wasn't difficult to do. Over the two year span, I had become very adept at burying my feelings.

One thing hadn't changed though- the friendly banter between us was still alive and well. Something about the playful chatter always distracted me to the seriousness of the missions we were on. I suppose that was the point, but this time it offered more than just comfort- it felt like a form of light-hearted flirtation. Not to mention, I always enjoyed our clever wordplay.

Once we entered the base, it didn't take long to find Feron. My relief was visible and I believe a caught a glimpse of jealousy emanating from your normally unreadable "work mode" eyes. We were unable to free him, so we continued our way through the ship. The path of destruction was great. Admittedly, it felt good to vent my anger and frustration on something tangible like the Shadow Broker's mechs and mercenaries.

We gained entry to the main control room, but Garrus was knocked out cold, so it was just you and I against the Shadow Broker- as it should have been. Your approach was direct and physical, another nod to the differences between your past-self and present-self, while I kept him off-balance with my biotics. In the end, you were able to maneuver him into position and I brought the roof down on him. Literally.

I had unraveled the Shadow Broker's identity through a list of sporadic facts and logical deductions, but what I had envisioned about his network was only a fraction of the expanse that truly existed. After we had defeated him, his agents called in for a status update, so I stepped in and took over. Everyone who had known him was dead; therefore, I surmised it would be easy to create the façade of his continued existence. I didn't think about the implications, I just did it. On some level, I was certain the Broker base would be a valuable asset to have in the upcoming war. All of that knowledge, all of that influence, and all of those resources could be harnessed for the greater good. What I didn't count on was the heaviness such a burden carried.

Standing at the Broker's command center, looking at the montage of vid screens, I could scarcely believe my personal crusade was over. Two years of revenge-filled thoughts. Two years of gathering intel, filtering rumors and connecting data. Two years of focusing on anything but you. Done. In that moment, I was overwhelmed by the crushing weight of knowing that I had just exchanged my guilt-driven quest of vengeance for a hope-driven quest of redemption.

I hadn't anticipated feeling so forlorn. With the fall of the Shadow Broker I thought I would be jubilant, but what I really felt was an unnatural disquiet. I was grateful you were alive. I was grateful for saving Feron. I was grateful the Broker had been defeated. At that very moment though, I saw what my crusade had cost me. I saw the ruthless, focused, zealous entity I had chosen to become in the pursuit of those achievements and I was unsettled by all that I had lost. The dam of long-suppressed grief flooded through me and would no longer be contained.

I wept.

Then you were there, hugging me, telling me it would be alright. After two years, I finally felt like I could see again and what I saw I wanted. I kissed you- hungrily and passionately, but when I tried to pull away apologizing and rambling that we were different people that you had your mission, you pulled me back and we shared our first real, uncompromised kiss. I felt as though I had melted and drifted to into the starry heavens.

By the Goddess, you had always known how to enthrall me.

I needed to clear my head. Things were changing so fast for me and I needed to get a handle on where I stood in all of the chaos. We agreed to meet later- you would come back to the Broker base to be updated on what I found after debriefing the Normandy crew and cleaning up.

My time was divided between caring for Feron, inspecting the network, and going over data. The first was wounded, but would heal in time. The second was damaged, but would be repaired in time. The third was overwhelming, but would be sorted through in time. In between everything, I found myself doing something I hadn't allowed for two years- I contemplated the dichotomy of you.

First, there was Lakota Shepard- former lover, friend, and one-time confidant. She loved silk, delighted when her back was scratched, smelled intoxicatingly of sandalwood and sage, and read voraciously. She had a beautiful singing voice, but rarely sang outside the shower. She was fond of deep, red hues, but thought pink was a pseudo color. An amateur researcher of other cultures, she had a special interest in folklore and mythology saying they illustrated generalized values and worldview assumptions of a species. Her loyalty was unquestionable and she treated her friends as family.

Then there was Commander Shepard- master strategist, efficient organizer and accomplished leader. She was able to instill confidence in others which in turn excelled them to do their best for the team. In the face of uncertainty, she remained calm, composed, and was able to offer assurance in those difficult moments. She had an uncanny knack of being at a critical point at the right time. She inspired by example, and had moral and physical courage that was derived from self-abnegation.

When woven as a whole, you had an elusive way about you. You were affable to the point where people felt comfortable around you, but when asked, they knew very little about you. You negotiated your way through a conversation as though it was a battlefield. When a question was asked, you gave enough to acknowledge it, but then advanced with an inquiry of your own. You followed up with an artful barrage of well-placed questions, never giving ground. In the end, the person revealed much, felt closeness to you, but in turn, you had not shared a thing.

I noticed this when I first arrived on the original _Normandy_. In fact, I fell victim to your conversational strategy.

After so many years on my own, travelling, exploring, and studying, I had forgotten what it was like to be surrounded by people, day in and day out. At first, the camaraderie of the human crew was a bit daunting. They didn't trust me because of my mother, so I felt even more isolated and alone than I did at the dig site on Therum. You recognized my uneasiness and offered me the hand of friendship. Before I knew it, I was talking about my mother, my race, my culture, and myself. You knew so much about me, but I knew very little of you. I knew facts and statistics, but I knew nothing of how those experiences had shaped you, your thoughts, your being. That was exactly what I desired though. I desired to know _**you**_.

In those early days, I assumed much. Too much, because you always seemed to step out of my presumptions and surprise me. I thought that Commander Shepard, Alliance hero, survivor of Akuze, the first human Spectre, would be unapproachable, and that I would be beyond your notice, but then you walked through the med lab doors and started up a conversation which led to another conversation and another. Soon we were having meals together in the mess and when time allowed, we would wander the Citadel together and talk of wonderfully frivolous things.

The first time you walked through those med lab doors, I was smitten. Conversing with you was enlightening. You had an incredible mind, deep thoughts that demanded answers, and belief in yourself. You were so unafraid, so casual and so natural. You had the most expressive eyes and a capturing smile to match. I loved the strength of your arms and how your hands looked capable of anything. I respected the way you treated your interspecies crew equally like family.

You challenged me in ways nobody before ever had. You pushed me to be bolder. Knowing you gave me greater confidence in myself. I saw qualities in you that I admired and wanted to cultivate within myself. You did things that astounded and amazed me, and I hoped to pick up on that inner drive you had when the odds around surrounding you seemed impossible to beat. In all of my years, I had never met someone so attuned to me, who read me so easily all of the time. Also, I had never met anyone I tuned into so easily. That was what constantly amazed me- it was all so effortless, so natural.

In those early days, I had learned, through knowing you, that I hadn't been living my life fully. Until you came into my life, I hadn't realized my life was passing me. Being in your presence once again, I found myself faced with that knowledge anew.

The_ Normandy SR-2_ remained in Sowilo system, but you didn't return to the base for twelve long hours. When you stepped back on the station and I saw you through the security monitor, my breath caught in my chest- you were dazzling. Majestic. You had exchanged your crimson, kestrel armor for more casual attire- skin-tight, brown leather pants; a sleeveless, forest green shirt and knee-high leather boots. I hadn't predicted you would change clothes.

The remnants of the battle had been cleaned, so when you entered the command center, you took a few minutes to look around, but then headed directly over to talk with me. The outfit you had worn complimented the playful radiance of your eyes beautifully and I had a difficult time keeping my mind on our conversation. Luckily, I had always been a good multi-tasker. Standing next to you though had spellbinding effect on me. Your nearness penetrated every fiber of my being and I knew without a doubt, without rhyme or reason, that I was smitten once again. Quite simply, you made my world standstill.

I apprised you of the repairs, relayed some of the data collected and deciphered from the Broker's extensive network, and also introduced the various interactive terminals available for use. You asked some questions about the Broker, but I could tell you weren't very interested in the information. It wasn't until you asked about Feron that you demeanor changed.

"_How's Feron doing?"_

"_As well as you can expect, after two years of intermittent torture."_

"_Is he going to be okay?"_

"_He wants to work, so I'm letting him help on the repairs. I think it helps keep his mind off of it."_

"_So…are you and Feron…?"_

"_We're just friends. I think you and I made it perfectly clear that I am, as you humans say, taken."_

"_You know, I didn't come here to just talk about data."_

"_I know. But…Shepard, I've changed."_

"_Hah… Well, as you can see, I've stayed the exact same."_

"_I'm serious."_

"_We've both changed, Liara. But I know, without a doubt, my feelings for you haven't."_

"_With all that has happened, maybe we should wait…"_

"_Doctor, I've waited long enough, I don't want to wait any longer."_

"_I've missed you, but it's been two years. I don't want to put pressure on you."_

"_I've got fond memories of the last time you put pressure on me."_

"_Heh…so do I."_

We were standing a few feet from each other, but when I looked up and our eyes met, the distance vanished. I cupped my hand behind your head and pulled you to me. Our lips met in a tentative, slow dance. Then your hands were upon me and our bodies enmeshed. I lost track of where you began and I ended as time ceased to have any meaning.

At some point, we touched our foreheads together, quietly taking in the surreal moment. After two years, we had managed to reunite. I was in awe. Thankfully, one of us had sense enough to ask a prudent question.

"_Why don't you come over to the Normandy? Take a tour of the ship. Spend some time with me."_

"_Yeah. I would like that."_

"_Great. Why don't you get your things? I'll wait here."_

"_Okay. I'll just be a moment."_

Fifteen minutes later, we were on our way to the _Normandy_. I had left Feron in charge of the base. Most systems were automated, so there wasn't much he had to do.

When the shuttle docked you were immediately called away to give an update to Ms. Lawson. I was escorted to your cabin by Yeoman Chambers- she was less talkative than our first encounter. You had given me free reign of your cabin, so I took advantage of your shower and changed clothes. Afterward, I took a few moments to look around your quarters. We shared an interest in fish, but where I surpassed you in Prothean relics, you surpassed me in model ships. Once again, I found myself looking at the digital image of me on your desk and wondered where you had gotten it. I nearly jumped back when I heard a startling screech to my right. You had a space hamster on a bookshelf. I hadn't expected that.

I surveyed your room and noticed your N7 helmet on the desk near the bed. The one you had worn when the collectors attacked the _Normandy SR-1_. It hadn't been on your desk when I was in your cabin before. Apparently, you had put it away. I walked over to it, touched it, and ran my hands over its cold, cratered surface. Even then I still wanted to halt time, return to you, and save you. Instead, I met Ms. Chambers at the CIC and she took me on a tour of the ship. It was impressive- beautiful, and your new crew was incredibly diverse. The tour was captivating and I heard many interesting comments along the way.

When the tour ended, I left Ms. Chambers at the CIC and returned to your cabin. I found you sitting on your couch staring at the Prothean relic on the coffee table, but with a far-off look on your face. You asked how I liked the new _Normandy,_ and then I asked how you were really doing. You spoke of your frustration with the Council, Cerberus and judgment given by trusted "friends." I knew you were referring to Kaidan- Tali had informed me about the details of the Horizon mission while walking through engineering. Then I asked about your needs, what you wanted and the possibility of us. You made a quipped remark about marriage, old age, and lots of little blue children. My heart was jubilant one moment, but sank despairingly the next.

You had been declared dead once and it almost destroyed me. Regardless of what happened between us, I knew that the possibility of losing you a second time would always loom on the horizon. I knew when the reapers came that you would be the first to jump into the fray- it would be your nature to do so. What I didn't know was whether or not I was willing to risk myself again. Then, as if reading my thoughts, you used your gift of words.

"_Knowing you has been akin to lightning striking- electrifying, dizzying, heart-stopping, beautifully captivating, unique, unpredictable. A force of nature all its own. And trying to control nature is like trying to paint the wind."_

I couldn't stop myself from smiling. I knew at that moment that whatever hesitations I had were futile because you had done it again. You had won my heart.

As I looked into your eyes, it occurred to me that you weren't going to be alone any longer. I was stepping up to walk by your side and face whatever obstacles were in our way. From that second on, you were going to have a trustworthy, loyal, and equal companion by your side. Once those barriers were down, we both reveled in a long-awaited, uninterrupted, passionate reunion. Two years of pent up frustration, desire and longing. A force of nature, indeed.

Afterwards, I couldn't contain my enchantment, my delight. The depth of our connection, the interwoven nature of our bonding, transcended any of our previous meldings. It was as though all mental, emotional, physical and spiritual boundaries had disappeared and we attained, and held onto, an unending moment of blissful, single-celled rapture. I don't know how long we stayed in that moment, but even when we moved through it, I still felt you, felt connected to you and something glorious happened. Something I don't fully understand, but it was something I knew could only happen with you.

"_By the Goddess… That was amazing, Shepard."_

"_**You **__are amazing." _

Inspired by our powerful union, I confessed a long-held, but in the aftermath of our bonding, seemingly silly secret.

"_I am in love with you, Commander." _

In turn, you disclosed a secret of your own.

"_I've never believed in second chances. A person only gets one shot to get things right. But you…here with me now…you make me believe."_

"_Believe it, Commander. We have both taken extraordinary steps to make our reunion a reality."_

And then you took me completely by surprise.

"_Doctor?"_

"_Yes, Commander?"_

"_I'm in love with you, too."_

I was stunned. It wasn't that I thought you didn't love me. On the contrary, I knew you loved me very much. There were so many ways in which you expressed and showed how much you cared. Bound in our joining, I felt the depth of your passion for me- I was woven within it, but you had never directly voiced it. Ever. Without a doubt, it was wonderful to hear those words come out of your mouth. Simply wonderful. So maybe all of our changes weren't so bad.

Now it is present day and you are in the bathroom recovering from a nightmare that I can only guess at, but I am an information broker, a scientist and your lover which means my skills at observing you are damn good. I know the things that haunt you and for better or worse, it's time to talk about them.

It's my turn to keep you safe.


	5. Being

**Chapter 5: Being**

Hesitantly, Lakota stepped through the bathroom door and entered into the main cabin. The black, silk robe she wore, a gift from Liara, hung loosely on her form. The hemline barely touched the tops of her knees as the shadowy glimmer of the room bathed the elegant covering in gossamer luminescence bringing to mind the sleek sheen of a panther. Remaining stationary, she took a moment to observe her surroundings which allowed her eyes time to adapt to the shift in lighting. The entire room was dimly illuminated by the effervescent glow of the aquarium. The soft, blue-grey hue hinted at the coolness pervading the space and edging its way into the quiet ambiance. Lakota also noticed the delicate, sweet scent of sage – normal for the room – which helped imbue the cabin with a serene tranquility.

Liara was seated on the couch, feet curled underneath her frame, intently watching Lakota's pensive entrance. The scientist had changed into cream colored, satin lounge pants and a matching buttoned shirt. She was silently thankful for her lover's hesitancy because it granted the moment needed to liberate her thoughts from past reminiscence.

Padding over to the couch, Lakota sat down next to her lover. Her right hand reached out to cover Liara's left and, in accidental unison, they each inquired, "Are you okay?"

Smiling at the verbal mishap, Liara was the first to respond. "I am unharmed. I woke while you were dreaming, but you were extremely agitated. I should not have tried to wake you."

Shaking her head in disagreement, Lakota demurely rejected the attempt to shoulder blame. "It's not your fault. I have bad dreams like that now and again. You had no way of knowing I would wake up with guns blazing." Ashamed and embarrassed, she apologized. "I am so sorry."

Liara brushed off the unnecessary concession with a curt wave of her right hand as it reached over to cup Lakota's cheek. "It's over now." Concern flickered across the asari's eyes as they bore intently into her lover. "What was happening?"

Lakota turned her head away from the penetrating, unwavering gaze and Liara's hand fell away. Pressure rose exponentially in the Spectre's chest while her breathing became shallow and difficult to draw. The dark nausea of her dreamweave, spurred on by a profusion of grisly, macabre images, was threatening to rise again. Squeezing her eyes tight, she focused on relaxing her body and taking in slow, cleansing breaths.

Misinterpreting the behavior, Liara whispered, "I understand if you do not wish to talk about it."

"No, it's not that…I just don't know where to start. It's all a jumble."

The asari thoughtfully pondered her lover's misgivings, and then faintly suggested, "I have heard you say that it is best to 'start at the beginning'."

"Oh…is that all?" Grinning mischievously, Lakota quipped, "I was born in Mexico City…"

Liara subtly shook her head while rolling her eyes in mock exasperation. "Yes, I recall that conversation. I believe there are some forged papers in existence documenting your incorrect age." She playfully nudged her lover. "So why not start wherever makes sense to you."

Lakota nodded in agreement. In an unexpected desire for comfort, she proceeded to stretch her body out on the couch, laying her head in Liara's lap. She adjusted the robe so it covered the majority of her thighs and provided adequate warmth to her weary limbs. Focusing her stare on the Prothean relic located on the coffee table, she allowed her thoughts to be swept into depths of the obsidian orb.

Liara tenderly stroked her lover's silken, raven-black hair. Dampness still clung to the freshly washed locks, but the effect only added to their smooth, soft feel. The hypnotic caresses offered the commander a subtle reprieve from the uneasiness weaving its way through her being.

In a hushed, almost indistinguishable tone, Lakota shyly murmured, "Don't you already know?"

"Know what, Shepard?"

"Know what…my dreams…are about."

"No," soothed Liara, "I don't. Not specifically, but I can guess." Her fingertip's consoling strokes widened their path to include her lover's back and shoulders. "Why would you think so?"

The sound of her voice was still no more than a whisper as Lakota explained. "The intimacy we have when we're joined…the shared consciousness. I have a sense of you and all that you are. You feel completely open to me. I sense no walls. I thought you may feel the same."

Liara weighed her lover's words before responding. "When we join, I sense a great many things from you. The experience is intoxicating. Enthralling. You are a completely open and willing partner. There is vulnerability, innocence, passion…"

"Yeah… I'm sensing a 'but'…"

Smiling at her lover's intuitiveness, Liara gently affirmed, "Yes. There is a 'but.' From our first joining, when I sought to help you decipher the Prothean images, I sensed a guarded place within you."

"Why haven't you knocked on the door? I have nothing to hide from you." Lakota's gaze remained fixated on the pulsing artifact. The rhythmic motion offered a spellbinding allure giving the commander the ability to listen to the conversation with a detached ear. In this way, she protected herself from answers that she may not be prepared to hear.

"I believe that to be true, but I also believe there is good reason to have such a place within your mind." Liara's hand came to rest on Lakota's shoulder as she formulated her next thoughts. "You have experienced hardships that I may never fully comprehend. That you have endured them and still remain a compassionate individual is a testament to your inner strength."

"I'm not that strong," deflected Lakota, "just stubborn. Well…maybe a bit thick-headed, as well."

Liara affectionately teased, "That goes without saying, Commander."

Recommencing her hand's tranquilizing passage over Lakota's form, Liara regarded her lover. Taking a few seconds to compose various introspections, she eventually revealed her theory. "In order to survive those experiences, you developed a coping mechanism. I believe that the guarded place in your mind is your safe zone. The place you store harsh experiences until you're ready to fully process them."

Lakota considered the scientist's words before acerbically mumbling, "Fantastic. I sound like a basket case."

"Basket case?"

"Looney tunes. Nutty as a fruitcake. Out to lunch. Bonkers. Unglued."

The asari's silence indicated her persisting confusion.

Feeling overwhelmed by the heaviness of the conversation, Lakota sighed dourly. "I sound like I should be talking with the resident counselor before I have some sort of mental breakdown."

Moving her fingertips to massage Lakota's head, Liara casually refuted her lover's words. "On the contrary, I feel it is a very healthy way to process troublesome experiences. The human mind is a complex entity."

"So how come you seem to know so much about the psychology of the human mind?"

"I wanted to know more about you," Liara quietly admitted. "I am a scientist, so I researched human physiology and psychology. Everything I could find."

Lakota rolled over on her back adjusting the robe along the way. Still using Liara's lap as pillow, she looked amorously at her lover. "Oh…?" With a suggestive glint in her eyes, Lakota enticed, "Everything?"

Liara replied seductively, "Yes…." Returning the coy gaze with a provocative smile, she further implied, "Everything." Her index finger traced a light path over Lakota's lips, punctuating the coquettish statement.

Contentment immersed within the foundation of Lakota's frame while Liara's fingertips hypnotically traced the contours of her face. Closing her eyes, she breathed in deeply, drifting into the tepid, relaxed energy stream flowing through her body. The hum of the aquarium added to the peaceful mood enveloping them, and the light from the faux sea continued to enchant the air with its twilight glow.

In the serenity of the moment, a quirky desire manifested, prompting Lakota to tacitly petition, "Tell me something about yourself that I don't know."

The asari scientist took a minute to reflect on the question. She had wanted to talk about the span of time during the commander's two year absence, but there never seemed to be a suitable occasion. Now that the opportunity impetuously presented itself, she faltered.

The first few months, after the _Normandy SR-1_'s destruction, had been filled with the chase for Lakota's body. After Cerberus took the commander away, Liara had been left alone. She had felt completely and utterly forsaken with no one and nowhere to turn. Her mother was dead, her lover was dead and her friends were so bereft from the loss of their commander that they were unapproachable. In lieu of her emptiness and grief, she sought comfort and solace in places familiar to Lakota.

Pulling herself from past memories, Liara divulged, "While you were…gone… I travelled to Earth…Mexico City to be precise."

The surprise could not be hidden from Lakota's voice. "You did?"

Nodding her head, Liara continued. "Then I travelled to Akuze and visited the site for the memorial."

Lakota regarded her lover contemplatively. She wondered what Liara had done in the aftermath of her death, but had been leery of asking because she didn't want to unwittingly entertain unsavory memories.

"I wished to be close to you again. Visit places you had been, even though I knew they weren't pleasant. Any memory of you was better than no memory at all."

"Did it help?"

A wistful smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and Liara admitted, "Yes, a little." Images from her journey splashed across her mind evoking an old remorseful ache. "It was also very…distressing…there was…," she stopped and corrected herself, "…_is_…so much I still want to know about you."

Understanding her lover's desire to know more, Lakota came clean about her own actions. "Right before we set off through the Omega 4 relay, I sent you an encrypted message. It has all of my personal logs, logs on the crew and even a couple of personal letters to you."

"You did?" Startled by the admission, Liara said, "I never received any message."

"Well, yeah…it was time-delayed. If I didn't send a password within thirty days of entering the relay, then the message would automatically be sent to you."

Doing the math in her head, the scientist said, "But that would mean…"

"Yeah…if I don't send the password today, then you'll have the message in your possession tomorrow."

"What will you do?"

Taking a deep breath, Lakota confessed, "I want you to have the information."

Liara's thoughts were caught in a magical reverie. A sense of amazement radiated from her core as she pondered the woman whose mere existence radically changed her life. Like an archeologist, the woman lying before her had discovered a treasured piece the asari thought lost in the dust and dirt of Prothean dig sites. A piece she had long ago protectively shelved away, with the intent of examining later, but had intentionally forgotten as time wore on. Now though, having been discovered and explored, she felt fully awake, felt fully alive and, when in the presence of her lover, she felt wholly complete.

"There is something else...," Liara's voice shook with a subtle uncertainty, "Admiral Hackett contacted me…"

"Oh…," Lakota knew exactly where the conversation was headed, so in true Lakota fashion, she jumped in first. "There was no good time to tell you. I made you my benefactor right before we left the Citadel for geth space."

Understanding her lover's choice, Liara said, "I was shocked to say the least." Attempting to lighten the mood, the scientist fondly teased, "I had no idea all of your belongings would fit into one duffel bag."

"Hah…yeah and now look at me. Fish, models, space hamster…where's it going to end?"

Steering the conversation back to Lakota's belongings, Liara added another confession. "Hackett gave me your N7 armor. The piece that you saw on Illium. He also gave me your military tags." Liara gazed upon her lover adoringly before confiding her last secret. "I wore them up until I returned them to you."

Holding the reverential stare, Lakota felt simultaneously soothed and exhilarated by the knowledge that Liara possessed a piece of her during her absence. Tangled up in a swirl of untamed emotions, she smiled in wonderment. "There are times when I am completely mystified by you, Doctor."

Lakota's gaze lingered on her lover momentarily before she continued. "I love your laugh. Love to make you laugh." Her hand reached up and cupped Liara's cheek. "You challenge me and confront me. When I am with you, time seems to slow down and I savor every delicious moment." She took a deep breath and smiled as she exhaled, as if caught in a pleasant memory. "And then we part and everything kicks back into gear, but those around me pale in comparison, gray shades and hues, never able to capture my full attention like you."

Lakota's right hand reached out and captured Liara's left, bringing it to her lips for a light, doting kiss. "Your look, your feel, your presence are interwoven within me. Moments with you shift and blend into the ideal of what life should be like. Complimentary, but challenging. Comfortable, but rousing. Content, but unsettled."

Not wanting to interrupt, Liara stayed silent. She knew Lakota had more to say, but was taking a moment to collect her thoughts.

With Liara's hand still close to her lips, Lakota sat up, allowing emerald and sapphire eyes to meet directly. As their gazes lingered, time slipped into a place where it held no meaning. "This, between us," Lakota confessed, "is something I've never had before."

Liara had always been enraptured by Lakota's unexpected but heart-felt admissions, and this moment was no different. She regarded her lover in a dazzled bewilderment, but also saw, blanketed on Lakota's sincere visage, something ominous lurking beneath the surface. Recognizing her lover's internal struggle, Liara prompted, "What is it, Shepard?"

Closing her eyes in an effort to keep her memories at bay, Lakota took in a slow, cleansing breath, and then mindfully exhaled. One experience still remained shrouded in a chorus of fear, anxiety and desperation. An experience she had not yet shared with anyone else. She felt compelled to be face to face with Liara, so she moved to sit on the coffee table. When their gazes met again, she paused unexpectedly and marveled at the compassionate, blue orbs, deep as the ocean depths, staring back at her. She had confronted berserk krogans, hell-bent biotics, and even death itself, but she was constantly amazed by her lover's ability to disarm her with only a look.

Gathering her courage, Lakota confided, "When I woke up in that Cerberus facility, I woke to a warzone. Literally. Within thirty seconds I had a gun in my hand and within two minutes I was firing at mechs. I had no idea where I was, what was going on or how I fit into any of it, but that didn't matter. All I wanted was to get to you."

Liara's attention never left her lover, but she remained silent empowering Lakota with the time needed to finish her thoughts.

"Everything was a spun into a non-stop race – recruiting the crew, discovering the Reaper's plan, the assault through the Omega 4 Relay. I didn't allow myself time to think." Lakota's eyebrows furrowed in dismal contemplation. "But now, it's quiet. I've had time to think. And for the first time in my life, I am honestly scared. Scared of what was done to me. Scared of what I have become. Cerberus had my body for _two years_, and they aren't known for playing nice."

Shaking her head ruefully, the flood gates of harbored fears continued to roll off of her tongue. "How much like Saren am I? He was a Spectre, so I became a Specter to fight him. He was cybernetically altered. And now I've been cybernetically altered. He was raised from the dead. I was raised from the dead."

Liara opened her mouth as if to argue, but was stopped by Lakota's forefinger touching her lips.

"In the end," Lakota resignedly sighed, "it boils down to that fact that I'm afraid of myself."

In a moment of grand clarity, Lakota saw how her invisible fear seeped through the core of her being, pervaded her thoughts and infected the nuances of her daily existence. Although she wasn't cold, a shiver rolled through her body. "It's ironic, isn't it?" she dejectedly commented. "I fought and defeated Saren only to end up almost identical to him. You fought and defeated the Shadow Broker only to take over his network." Her hand dropped slowly to her lap.

Liara raised a bemused eyebrow and conceded. "We are a unique pair."

Looking away, Lakota reluctantly disclosed, "I don't like the idea that I'm not in control of my life."

Liara's hands reached out to hold onto Lakota's. A whirlwind of unanswered questions spiraled within her thoughts, but she deemed one more prevalent than any other. "Why do you find it so hard to ask for help?"

Remembering the destruction of the _Normandy SR-1_, Lakota whispered, "Last time I did, I almost got everyone killed."

Liara's hand stretched out, grazing her lover's cheek and gently forced their eyes to meet. Knowing what Lakota was really implying, she candidly reminded, "It was my choice to stay."

"I could have told you no."

"You could have tried."

Lakota's head slumped in a defeated posture as though the all of her fears and concerns had manifested physical weight and were suddenly dropped on her shoulders.

"You seem haunted," Liara said auspiciously. "But not by the people you've lost or the fears you harbor. You seem haunted by the feeling of loss itself. You keep it bound up and contained so tightly. At times, there is a heavy sense of loneliness that even I cannot touch."

"You shoulder burdens for friends and strangers alike asking for nothing in return," remarked Liara, "but now, in this, you can lean on me. You have said there is nothing I can say that will scare you or that will cause you to reject me, but can you say the same for yourself? Do you allow yourself the same freedom?"

Greeted with silence, Liara continued. "I think the time has come for you to move beyond your safe boundaries and share the rest of your heart and soul. You are safe with me and the secrets of your heart are safe, too. What happens between us, what is said between us, stays between us. And I will not reject you. There is nothing you could say or do which would make me turn away from you."

Again, the scientist touched Lakota's chin, lifting until soulful, blue eyes met wistful green. "Remember, I don't love lightly."

A turbulent tide of emotions ebbed and flowed within Lakota, and for a moment, she was almost swept away in the waves of fear and isolation. "I have been running in one form or other my entire life. Running from. Running to. Hell, even running in place." Holding Liara's unconditional gaze, she softly whispered, "I am tired of running."

She reached out her right hand cupping Liara's cheek and drew her close until their foreheads touched lightly. Drawing in a cleansing breath, she exhaled and said, "Right now, I only want to be in this quiet space with you…the one I love."

Liara's right hand reached up and softly caressed the commander's face. They lingered sedately, foreheads touching, silently communing, and ultimately wrapping themselves in the peaceful tranquility woven between.

"I want to share everything," Lakota humbly wished. "I don't want there to be walls or doors or rooms between us. I don't want this loneliness hanging between us any longer."

"It doesn't have to be. Now that you are aware…just open yourself up to me."

"How?" Lakota plaintively beseeched.

With a dancer's grace, Liara stood and offered her hand to her lover.

Taking the proffered hand, Lakota was gently beckoned to her feet and guided to the bed they shared. With her back facing the edge, Lakota stood mesmerized by the ethereal beauty who placed a loving, but chaste kiss upon her lips.

Languidly unbuttoning her shirt, Liara let it entrancingly drift down her sylphlike form. Her nimble fingers skillfully removed the satiny, lounge pants leaving them discarded on the floor next to their partnered raiment.

Entranced by her lover's sensuous curves, and lissome shape, Lakota barely noticed as her own robe was opened, and then gently pushed off her shoulders, floating lithely to the ground.

Lakota remained perfectly still and statuesque. In a show of unadulterated trust, she consciously gave up control, letting her lover lead the way.

Liara's breath caught, as she took in the magnificence of Lakota's strong, exquisite figure. The commander's honey-toned skin enveloped a svelte frame and well-toned, supple muscles hinting at a superior vitality and stamina. The grey-blue hues illuminating the room added a bewitching aura to the already divine, naked elegance standing before her. Stepping closer, so they were toe to toe and eye to eye, Liara placed another sensuous, but this time, unchaste salutation upon Lakota's lips.

Her left hand guided Lakota's arm around her waist and her right hand snaked around the commander's head, drawing her further into the sensual, soul-tempting kiss.

Draping both hands around her lover's midriff, Lakota pressed in close, and felt the silken warmth of skin on skin contact. Heated lips parted and inquisitive tongues met in an unhurried, but provocative dance of blissful entanglement.

Trembling in dizzying arousal, Liara reluctantly pulled her lips away, and breathlessly intoned, "Shepard?"

Lakota, swathed within her exquisitely painful stirrings, responded raggedly. "Yes?"

When the blue, moody depths of Liara's eyes met the turbulent, sea-green orbs, the asari dulcetly bequeathed, "Will you join with me?"

Seeking a salvation only her lover could provide, Lakota replied with the one and only answer possible. "Yes. I want this. With you."

Still wrapped within Lakota's embrace, Liara leaned in and nuzzled her lover's neck. Her lips left a tantalizing trail of lingering kisses across the collarbone and ending at the left shoulder. Continuing her sensuous exploration, she nibbled a return path towards the commander's jaw line, noting each low moan and sharp intake of breath along the way.

A pleasant agony tingled down Lakota's spine as curious lips adeptly explored her body leaving traces of erotic magic on their tactile voyage. Invaded by an overpowering, salacious longing, the commander's fingertips intrepidly mapped the hills and valleys of her lover's naked form seeking to elicit the same lascivious turmoil. Each touch provoked their mutual swelling fervor; each caress added a new fire to their impassioned tempest.

Drunk in the heady pleasure of luring and being lured, Liara captured her lover's lips in a wanton, lustful kiss. Like tides being swooned by the moon's ardent pull, they were both swallowed in the waves of slowly rising desire.

The joining they sought was not about sex or for the sole purpose of physical pleasure. They sought a merged communion forged across the four intertwined bodies that make each individual whole: mental, physical, emotional and spiritual. A holy place bound in the simple virtues of trust, faith and love. A sacred space without doors, without walls, without boundaries…a place neither of them had ventured before. But now, human and asari, lovers in the most intimate sense, were about to embark on their unified journey.

Liara tenderly pulled her mouth away, hovering inches from the enticing, ruddy lips that begged for her return.

Spellbound in a euphoric daze, Lakota watched as the blue, porcelain depths of her lover's eyes shifted to obsidian.

Meeting the sultry, green leer in a visual promise of sensual abandon, Liara's melodic voice soothingly chanted, "Embrace eternity…" Leaning in, her lips softly brushed against Lakota's ear and reverently finished, "…with me."

The world they knew faded into the rich kaleidoscope of the unknown…

_**The End (…for now)  
**_

* * *

**Author's End Note:**

I wanted to leave this end note offering a special thank you to all who have Fav'd, Alert'd and left Reviews. I've greatly appreciated your continuing interest, support and feedback throughout Lakota and Liara's journey... it's been a wonderfully WILD ride! Thank you for taking the time to let me know what you think! It is most generous of you!

As with many of my stories, the overarching theme is centered on personal growth/character development. My hope is that I did a decent job (better than decent, really) of conveying the journey and that the shifting viewpoints added to the dimension of the story telling, as opposed to taking away from the story in some fashion.

Thanks again for reading! I have enjoyed penning this tale and I hope you enjoyed the reading, as well!


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